


us (you and me)

by drmroses



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Idols, Childhood Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:35:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25896055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drmroses/pseuds/drmroses
Summary: When Mark debuts as an idol, Xuxi begins to wonder where it all went wrong. Hadn't they promised to fulfill their dreams together?
Relationships: Mark Lee & Wong Yuk Hei | Lucas, Mark Lee/Wong Yuk Hei | Lucas
Comments: 2
Kudos: 47
Collections: LucasFicFest





	us (you and me)

**Author's Note:**

> i still cannot believe that I managed to finish this in time,,, i managed to spill milk onto my keyboard and my charger stopped worker so...guess who typed the last 3k on their phone? if you write on your phone, youre amazing please teach me your ways

When Xuxi steps out of his apartment building the morning after his release party, there’s a lot more people than just his neighbors. Holding big cameras, they've draped themselves around the two sided stairs down the pavement, where passersby crane their head to see in which direction the cameras are pointed in. Xuxi lowers his head, and tightens the hold on his car keys a little further. He should have been at the office at this point, head scrolling through reviews and planning stages. But he had forgot to set up his alarm last night, too hopeful with the thoughts of success.

The reporters follow him like a hound, trailing him as if it's in any way more conspicuous then if they were to walk besides him. The two blocks it takes to get from his apartment to his garage feel like hours, heavily paced by a pack of rabid dogs.

As the last camera walks away, Xuxi takes a deep breath, and continues forward, into the garage. For mid December, it truly isn’t that cold. Xuxi doesn’t even find himself cranking up the heat.

Traffic is surprisingly light today, and Xuxi manages to make it in record time. He goes up five flights of stairs, just like every other morning, greeting the nice lady at the front desk.

Once settled with a cup of tea in his hands, flickering the lights on, Xuxi scrolls through emails and answers the ones he wants, sending the annoying ones to his manager to answer. He looks through his calendar, heart racing at the thought of touring once more. The mere thought of it has his heart racing with adrenaline.

It's been two years since he has released an album. Two years during which he sat idly. Two years as his company debated whether or not he would be a good asset as an artist. Two years, with him demanding they let him work on his music. Two years as the crowds around him fell in piles as they flocked to the next big artist.

Xuxi knows he needs to break records for the company to let him have free reign over his next career decisions. He knows that it's nearly impossible, what with the two year hiatus they'd given him, with Xuxi having nothing to do but practice and bother his friends, keeping money tight in case.

But nonetheless, something in his heart hopes. He had worked hard, even through death, working to improve every aspect of himself. He had stayed countless nights in the studio, with only Hendery to drag him home when he could barely keep his eyes open.

Xuxi doesn’t just crave a breakthrough; he needs one. This he keeps in mind as he clicks onto an article detailing his album. Bright colors flow across the page, but Xuxi’s eyes blur them out, frantically scanning for opinions.

His eyes dart past the critiques of lyrics and melodic figures (he can look at that later), and find their way towards the opinion bar, scattered with comments that have been upvoted and downvoted into the thousands.

The first comment, however, speaks volumes. Relentlessly keeping its place at number one, it says ‘didn’t like this guy before...might hve to start following ?’ Xuxi slumps back in his chair at the sight, posture undone. He doesn't look at the responses for that comment, nor any others. That single comment is enough. Closing his eyes, he thinks about small miracles.

He thinks about Hendery and Kun, and their belief in him, in succeeding even when it seemed so far, too far away. When his dance moves grew sloppy even with every inch he tried to give and his voice shaky, as if he had overworked himself.

His phone buzzes, but it’s too far away for Xuxi to want to pick up. With a humongous weight lifted off his shoulders, he feels free. Free enough to sprout wings and fly off into the distant sunset. He’s lived up to his company’s expectations. It spelled out freedom to pursue his interests in the future.

But just as he’s about to twirl around in his chair in delight, a voice too familiar blares from the speakers in his office. It's empowering and rigid in the notes it hits, and Xuxi realizes far too slowly that he's clicked the back arrow, back on the biggest headline of the hour. Xuxi doesn't even have to look to know who it is. He knows it like the blanket he keeps on his couch, faded and frayed. He knows it like his childhood home, nothing but dust now.

With his heart beating out his chest, he takes a quick look. The name ‘Mark Lee’ jumps out in big, red, bold letters.

He shakes his head in utter disbelief. He can't believe he didn't recognize him, didn't jump up with a start at the sight of the same boy, though matured, that had fallen off the swing set when they were eight and had dropped a whole pizza on his car when they were seventeen.

Xuxi takes a second look at the pictures. Mark Lee has grown up. His hair is red and black and yellow, a perfect sunset, but he’s no longer wearing those circular glasses and that shy expression that he always had on when Xuxi dragged him out. Instead, the same boy that used to have Friday movie nights with him is smirking at the camera, a wall of flames behind him. He’s wearing a blue tropical shirt, and Xuxi tries to recall why he feels as though he’s seen it before.

His phone buzzes again, and Xuxi still doesn’t tear his eyes from the screen. He reads the article over. The last paragraph is especially poignant, reading:

> While the market has been on the up these past days with a boom in trading, Phoenix (PXN) seems to be a gray cloud that has yet to die. At 21 years old, Mark Lee seems to be the perfect singer to drag Phoenix Entertainment out of the red as previous scandals have plummeted the company’s stocks as investors grow wary of the company. Can Mark Lee keep his head high while treading in a pool of sharks? Only time can tell.

He reads it all over again, scanning for meanings between the words. But it seems pointless. Xuxi knows that he writes his own songs, knows that he sleeps with a nightlight and has two dogs, gifts from his parents. Xuxi knows that his favorite ice cream flavor is cookies and cream and that listens to artists he admires for inspiration. He knows that Mark’s eyes sparkle with clarity, and his ears are quick to catch hidden beats.

The article? Useless to the likes of Xuxi. Useless when he’s grown up around Mark, seen him with his little pouty face and his smiles that stretch for a lifetime.

The phone buzzes for the third time, and Lucas finally gets up, feeling his little world explode. On the illuminated screen lies three missed calls from Kun, and a bunch of text messages that flash threateningly.

Kun answers on the first ring when he tries to call back. “Where have you been?” He demands, and Xuxi doesn’t know what answer Kun is looking for.

“Uh-”

“I’ve been calling you for hours,” He sounds near hysterical, and Xuxi sighs.

“I’ve just been reading the article about my album. It sounds like the people like it.” A beat. Xuxi’s voice sounds off-kilter, and he knows it. He swallows. Kun knows him far too well to not say anything about the drop in his voice.

“You saw the other article then?” And Xuxi figures there’s no way around it.

“Yeah,” Another pause, and Kun shuffles around as Xuxi tries not to cry.

“I miss him.” Xuxi blurts, and Kun lets out an empathetic sound as the tears drip-drop down his face.

“That’s nothing to be ashamed about. Of course you miss him Xuxi, it’s not as though you didn’t care for him at all.” Kun’s voice gets softer. “He meant a lot to you.”

“I wish he didn't mean that much to me.” Xuxi mutters, or really, practically groans.

“You don't mean that.” Kun chides him.

Xuxi swallows, hard. “You’re right.” 

When he walks into Hendery's office that afternoon, a flight of stairs above his own, Hendery has already pulled out a chair for him to sit, his face cast downward in concern as Xuxi's appearance.

"I'm sorry," Hendery blurts out. "It was dishonest of me to keep from you that Mark would be..well, there when you had specifically asked me if there was anyone familiar you'd be competing against."

Xuxi's eyes bulge. "I hadn't even thought about that!" He smooths his hands against his legs. "How am I going to see him, after all this time? I can't believe it." His face crumples.

Hendery shakes his head, tapping a pen against the table. "I'm sure you guys will barely see each other, for the most part. Mark has a small fanbase, and it's growing, but not at the rate where I could see you two having to compete, or anything." He taps his fingers against the table. "Relax." Xuxi practically melts into Hendery's chair.

"Now, let me check the schedule, so we can see which shows he'll be on. That way, you'll be prepared." Hendery's face is grim, as if they're preparing for war. "I'll email you what I find. As your manager, I feel it necessary to tell you to go back to practicing!"

He gives Xuxi a little shove at the door. Xuxi wanders back downstairs, and chooses to spend the rest of his day into the practice room, sweat melting into the floorboards, pretending as if there's nothing but himself and the music he's created.

The next morning, he's feeling a whole lot better about everything. He wakes up, phone still blaring, with Hendery shouting in his ear about a number one. And while Xuxi's brain doesn't register the number as he walks to his kitchen, it recognizes it as he sat down to eat. In excitement to scroll through his phone, he nearly stabs himself with his fork.

The congratulations doesn't stop pouring in, either. Celebrities, across platforms congratulated him and recorded themselves listening to his songs. Friends made their appreciation clear with texts and sweet messages. Xuxi's heart swells, thinking about it all.

He's so lucky to have them all.

His first stage is the day after. During prerecording, the stage seems far bigger than it had before. He nearly stumbles over his feet a couple of times out of sheer fear.

As he made his way back on, with fans screaming here and there, Hendery looks him, straight in the eye, and said, "Focus." Something surges within Xuxi, and he nods, turning back around as the music begins to play back once more.

He hears his name, feels the lights across the face, and smiles as the place comes to life.

It’s at the next show that he feels Mark before he sees him, a black laser pointed at his back. Hendery hisses at the sight, and Xuxi stupidly turns around to see Mark Lee, staring at him. If looks could kill, Xuxi wouldn’t even be 7 feet under. He’d be in the core of the earth, stuck between magma and hell. There’s a pulling sensation in his gut, and he wants to go over to apologize. But before he can, Mark scowls, walking briskly out of the room.

Xuxi sighs. Hendery claps a hand over his shoulder. “Well, at least now we know he won’t start anything.” Xuxi rolls his eyes instead of responding, feeling more nervous every single second. It's different, now that he knows that Mark is under the same roof as him. Different, as if he can feel Mark judging the authenticity of his music.

It's as if they're back in high school, laying down beneath a cherry blossom tree, listening to music through a boombox. Mark has his eyes shut, but his brain is still chugging away, by the sound of the harmonies working through his mouth.

Xuxi doesn't remember the music they listened to, nor the thoughts he expressed to Mark. All he remembers is Mark, eyes glistening in the sun, telling him, "It's all or nothing. If your music has soul, it'll survive. Otherwise, you might as well cast it off into the wind."

He sings better, this time at least. Better than yesterday. Xuxi knows Hendery can tell, with his clap on his back as he steers him back to the dressing room. Hendery looks tired, even this early. Xuxi has no doubts that he has been up all night, making calls and setting things around his newly found fame.

With another look at the deep undercircles around his eyes, Xuxi tells Hendery to take a break. Hendery shoots Xuxi a grateful look, and leaves. In the dressing room. Xuxi mingles with his makeup artists, playing games on his phone until he falls asleep on the couch.

He is shaken awake by a friendly face, tugging at his sleeve. His eyes light up. "Kun!" He hugs him. "How have you been?" Kun’s familiar face warms Xuxi, even in the cold waiting room. He hasn’t seen him in forever.

Instead of answering, Kun holds out a bag. "I brought you lunch! Eat first, and we can talk."Xuxi looks grateful towards Kun, and sits down to begin to eat.

The door bangs open loudly as Xuxi finishes his soup and moves on to his sandwich. At the sound of the door opening, Xuxi looks up and sees Mark rushes inside. Xuxi’s eyes widen. What is he doing here?

He’s wearing a white jacket, and highlights of red in his black pants. There’s a spot of pink across his cheeks, and he has his cap tucked down low. His face is covered in a mask, but Xuxi can still tell it’s him. He knows through the stance, his posture, his gestures, fluid.

But it’s clear to Xuxi that Mark isn’t expecting his high school best friend to be in the room. Mark scans the room, face clearly blanching when he sees Xuxi. Without another word, he slips out of the room. If Xuxi didn’t have a witness, he would assume that he had merely dreamed it.

He turns back to his lunch, and can feel two eyes on him. Looking up, Kun is staring straight at him, as if he needs an explanation.

“What?” Xuxi demands, and Kun swallows.

“I didn’t...well, you see, I didn’t realize that you guys were so...detached.” Kun breathes out, and Xuxi feels his gut detract, as if he has been punched.

“Get used to it. He hasn’t spoken a word to me in years,” Xuxi can’t help the longing that slips out of his throat.

“So all those times that I saw you two before I left for college? Did those not mean anything?” Kun demands a response, and Xuxi doesn’t know how to give him what he wants. His eyes dart back and forth across Xuxi’s face.

“Things fell apart after you left.” Xuxi says, for lack of a better response.

Before Xuxi can say another word or Kun can grill him some more, an assistant pops in with a frantic look on his face. Without another word between the two, Xuxi slips off the jacket from his shoulders and swallows the last of his food, wiping his mouth clean.

“I’ll talk to you later, Kun.” With a heavy heart and thoughts of high school back in his mind, Xuxi walks to the front of the stage, waving and bowing as everyone gets assembled to announce the winner. He hates this part of the stage. He doesn't have a teammate to laugh with, or do cute things with. All he has is himself and his music. It’s so awkward for him to be stuck on stage, with nothing to do but nod at the MC’s words.

He tunes it out for a moment, and scans the crowd. Before he registers it, confetti floats down as a trophy is shoved into his hands. And everything, for once, feels better. He swallows the lump in the back of his throat, and gives a long windy speech about returning after two years. He sees Hendery and Kun, on the sidelines, both giving him a look of approval. Everything feels better until he sees Mark again.

People start to leave, and Xuxi bows to them, thanks a few of them that he personally knows with a smile and/or wink. Out of the corner of his eyes, he sees a flash of red and a scowl on Mark’s face. Xuxi turns to him, and begins to bow (civility at it’s finest) but Mark merely scowls deeper, and walks away. It stings, but Xuxi can’t let it get to him. He knows that he’s an open book, but he tries, regardless. He grits his teeth, and pastes a smile on his face. He should be happy. He’s holding a trophy, dancing to a crowd of happy fans.

He just can’t get Mark’s face out of his mind, sullen and down.

It’s raining still, even though the clouds has seemingly disappeared and the air is far too moist. Xuxi runs another hand through his hair. He had told Hendery that he needed some time out, and that’s what Hendery had given him. Time.

The sidewalk is damp and overflowing with water. Xuxi does his best to duck over the puddles, but mistakenly stomps into one nevertheless. With soaking feet and shaky palms, Xuxi enters the grocery store, wincing at the sound of his feet squeaking. There’s a few customers lounging around the halls, and Xuxi ducks further as he tries to quietly pull his umbrella down.

But it seems that Xuxi doesn’t have much of any luck today, judging by the looks he has gotten in the grocery store. Xuxi sighs, and tries to adjust his hat. Wandering eyes are never dismayed by a cover.

He walks forward, towards the ice cream, and stands there for a few seconds, contemplating what to get. He looks for the black raspberry carton, and finds none. Then, he scans the next freezer. Turning around, he finds one left.

As his hands reach for it, someone else's hands, icy cold, grab onto his. Startled, Xuxi pulls his hands back. His gaze goes up. The hand is connected to a black sleeve, which is connected to a black shirt with white loopy writing and red paint, which is connected to a face wearing a black cap, tucked low, just like his.

Xuxi's heart plummets. "Mark?" He says, and takes another look as if he'll disappear right in front of him.

Mark looks away, putting the ice cream into his crate. But Xuxi doesn't care that much about it anymore. He cares about the fact that Mark is here, right in front of him. He cares about the fact that Mark hasn't said a single word to him since he's arrived into the music industry, even when they shared the same stage. He cares about the fact that Mark is looking anywhere but him right now, eyes dark and filled with gloom.

"Hi." Mark says, and Xuxi wonders what kind of a dream this is.

"That's your response?" Xuxi cries in outrage. "Mark, we've known each other for so long, what do you mean, hi?" Mark tries to answer, but Xuxi's mouth has bulldozered on. "Why are you here? What are you doing here? Why didn't you let me know you were coming back into the industry?" He swallows back a million other questions, and looks to the side of the freezer, feeling silly all of a sudden.

"You've never liked Black Raspberry," Xuxi says begrudgingly. "You always got cookies and cream, so why?"

Mark clears his throat. "I just...need something that reminds me of home, okay? Besides, I wasn't the one who stopped us. Anyways," He shoves himself away from Xuxi. "I need to go."

Xuxi's jaw drops. Not a single question had been answered, and yet, Mark had chosen to leave regardless. He wants to stomp his foot on the pavement, and demand him to come back. Anything would be better than this.

He pays for his things a few moments later, and makes his way home, a couple of paces behind his thoughts. He can't stop thinking, and it's nothing but bad. Mark's words echo through his ears. The world around him is dewy with perspiration. It feels like a seemingly normal day, but Xuxi can't erase his feelings, and everything that feels absolutely wrong with this scenario.

When Kun opens the door to the rooftop of his apartment, he finds Xuxi there. He's cradling a sprout in his hands, a patch of dirt before him. He carefully pats the ground before him before letting the sprout absorb the dirt.

Kun softly steps in front of Xuxi, and he doesn’t blame him. He probably still remembers all the times Xuxi, holding food or something, would be startled and dump it all over the unlucky passerby.

“So…” Kun draws out his syllables. “What are you doing?”

“Gardening.” Xuxi wipes his forehead with his arm.

Kun nods thoughtfully, as if Xuxi does this every day. “And…is there any reason why you’re doing so?”

“I met Mark—bumped into him, literally—at the corner store.” Xuxi mutters the words under his breath. He pats the soil around his sprout, and adds a little water to the roots.

“It didn’t go well, did it?” Xuxi shakes his head, slowly. His eyes are poised on his sprout. He fears that if he looks up, he’ll see the pity in Kun’s eyes, and begin to cry.

“It was all wrong.” Xuxi mutters. “He was rude. He didn’t even try to act nice.” Kun crouched down, his hand reaching out pat Xuxi’s shoulder.

“Listen, it’s getting cold outside. Why don’t we bring the sprout in? Here.” Kun materializes a pot. He dusts off invisible dirt from his pants as he stands up. “I’ll go make something to eat. Come inside when you’re ready.”

Xuxi hears his footsteps get softer before he makes a single move. He leans back, his head facing the sky, and wonders if there’s anything to be saved.

He walks into the office, two weeks later, without any announcement. Hendery, without any sign of surprise, turns his laptop around so that Xuxi can see it.

“The only thing I could do to dissuade boss from demanding you come back to work or never was by signing you up for this show.” He slides the laptop closer. “It shouldn’t be bad, yeah?”

“What’s the premise?” Xuxi asks.

Hendery scans a document in front of him, clicking a pen against the wooden desk. “A music competition? They’re pairing up an artist that recently debuted with one that’s already has experience in the industry and seeing which group earns the most votes; for a few weeks. It’s supposed to be huge; from what I’ve heard.” Hendery lowers his voice, “They’re picking up a bunch of sponsors before they’ve even started; there’s definitely someone big behind it.”

Xuxi shrugs. “That sounds pretty good, to be honest. Do you know anyone else who’s doing it?”

Hendery sighs. “That’s the thing; I emailed the producers, and they wouldn’t tell me. I’ve been listening to the gossip around the office, and I haven’t heard anything. It’s supposed to be a surprise; so best if you don’t tell anyone either.”

With nothing more to say, and a packet of information stuffed in his back pocket, Xuxi heads outside. It’s raining again, and the droplets drop rhythmically like little pebbles against sand.

Time seems to fly by for the next two weeks. He finds his movements becoming more cautious at every public event, scanning for someone that’s never there. Mark, his new demeanor, and the scowl etched permanently on his face seems to never leave Xuxi’s brain. It’s startling to think of just how much the boy has changed; Xuxi can barely put the two together. The more Xuxi thinks, the more he wonders just how much four years had managed to change the two of them.

When Xuxi arrives on the set of the competition, a producer ushers him towards a small room in the back, where three other notable artists sit. Xuxi gives them a small smile before he sits down, listening to their instruction for the first round. They’ll be drawing numbers from a box in which order they’ll go on stage to sing a duet with a new artist, whose order will also be randomized. Once they’ve finished their duet, the audience will get to decide whether they should work together for the next few weeks or if they’ll need to split another group apart. Something similar to nerves rack through Xuxi’s body. What if he doesn’t work well with anyone?

Nevertheless, his heart racing once more as he sees a giant, bright, number 1 looking back at him. He holds it up for the cameras, and gives a customary smile, before turning to the other artists. It’s a good set of people, at least, Xuxi figures. Yuqi’s after him, and as they line up in the hallway, she introduces him to the other two, Xiaojun and Renjun. He compliments their music, and they respond back likewise, before the lights behind the stage dim. A scream erupts from the crowd, and Xuxi makes his way up to the stage, twisting his ring around and around.

The first few notes of his very first single, Dream Launch, begin. It almost feels like he’s with his friends at a Karaoke booth, with a gigantic screen pulled up behind the audience highlighted with his parts. Almost, if not for the wall blocking his sight from the new artist. The introduction plays, and Xuxi moves a few steps forward, hoping to catch a little glimpse, a shoe, a color, whatever. But before he can move forward anymore, he realizes he’s supposed to be singing the beginning, and ramps it up. He moves as far as he’s allowed to towards the audience, hoping to hype them up, waving his arms.

A short interlude of music from the orchestra plays as Xuxi perks his ears up, straining to hear his partner. It’s rough, Xuxi realizes, yet fluid, and sounds...exactly like Mark. From the sound of his voice, Xuxi can tell he knows they’re partners. He wants to groan, wants to leave, but there’s an audience, and Xuxi doesn’t rather think it’d be a good idea.

Instead he tries to let the tension release from his body. He waves to the crowd, lets the adrenaline from the cheering fill his body. He tries to focus on the music; after all, that’s all he’s wanted right? A crowd of cheering fans who like him for his music. But he can’t help but constantly glance back at the wall to his left, wondering if it really is Mark standing there.

He wonders what it’ll be like to work with him. That he knows well—hours of dancing in front of a glass mirror with steam rising are permanently etched into his brain.

The song ends too fast, too fast for Xuxi to think of words, compliments for Mark that aren’t too personal. The spotlight glares against his skin, and he listens carefully to the announcer’s speech, another person whose name he has forgotten already. He interviews Mark, and Xuxi watches a camera zoom in before his eyes on his reaction.

“Our new artist,” speaks the announcer, “have you figured out who you’ve been singing with?”

“Yeah, kinda obvious at this point.” Mark mumbles the last part, and the announcer is as speechless as Xuxi, before he directs the conversation back.

“Kind of obvious?” He says humorously, and it’s clear the rest of the audience sees it as a slip up, nothing but a joke. But Xuxi knows better. He feels threatened, for lack of a better word. His heart whispers to him that Mark doesn’t like the way he sounds. And though he acts like he doesn’t care, he does.

The announcer moves the attention towards Xuxi. “And our seasoned artist! Let me ask you; how are you finding the new artist’s voice, paired with yours?”

Xuxi makes a split second decision to act nice. He pastes a smile on his face. “I’m completely blown away. It’s obvious that Mark Lee knows how to sing and work a stage, very well. I could feel it in the audience, really.” Xuxi notices his slipup far too late. He shouldn’t have uttered Mark’s name; he shouldn’t have acted as if he knew of a Mark Lee beforehand.

The announcer pulls on Xuxi’s blunder. “How did you know it was Mark Lee?” He glances around the audience, pulling at their emotions with wise words until they silently wait for his answer.

He begins to sweat. “Oh, we just went to the same high school. Thats all. Ended up going to the same events to perform and things.”

The announcer hums, and turns his attention back to Mark Lee. “Wow. And you're being reunited on our stage tonight. So you must know who's behind the screen. On the count of three, let’s all say it together!”

Xuxi brings his hands up to his ear, and barks a laugh when the chatter becomes too loud for a single name to have been uttered.

The announcer smiles, and shrugs in a 'well, what can you do?' fashion. He clears his throat, and the cameras pan around the audience once as he declares the rules on how to vote yet or no. As the timer for voting clicks down from a minute, Xuxi watches as more and more people wave their voting instruments in the air. He hopes that they won’t all be saying yes, after all, what fun would it be for all four groups to automatically paired? Inside, he prays that he won’t be stuck with Mark Lee for the next few weeks. He doesn’t know how anyone won’t be able to pick up on the tension between them if they end up having to work together. He swallows, imagining being stuck with Mark with little space between them, a few cameras propped around the room, and hours of unusable footage. The minute passes in what feels like an hour.

Finally, the lights pan back towards the two of them, the announcer clears his throat, reading his card. “Are you guys ready for the result?” He turns towards the camera. “Let’s all count down together. Three, two, one!”

Xuxi shuts both his eyes for a moment, before cautiously opening one. There’s two graphs moving up on the huge electronic screen in front of him, with yes and no labeled on the very top. Xuxi’s heart sinks the moment he opens his eyes. It’s clear that they’ll be working together. The yes graph has to have at least three times the votes as the no graph. Xuxi’s shoulders slump down, but he guesses they’ll think it’s out of relief, if anyone even manages to see him at this point, engrossed in the screen.

Paper sprinkles of colorful sheet paper fall to the floor as the wall opens, and Mark makes his way towards the center. Towards Xuxi. Xuxi feels his body lurge forward to follow Mark’s tempo, and they make their way towards the center circle at the same point, where Xuxi manages to lead Mark in an awkward handshake.

Next, they make their way down the middle of the Y-shaped stage. Once they reach the end, they sit on a couch together. For the next few performances, Xuxi’s aware of every moment he makes, and the way everything seems to feel hotter. He brings a hand up to his face, and feels it heat ever more against his fiery hand.

The rest of the night is blurry; all he can remember is a firm hand at the end of the night, and a confused look on Mark’s face, too close to his own, before he was ushered away by Hendery to get some rest before his next event the following day.

When Xuxi walks in on Monday for their first meeting, he’s balancing his phone, a couple of papers, a guitar pick, and two coffees, precariously balancing. He still can remember Mark’s order; it had slipped through his mouth this morning at the store as if it was his own regular. Finally at his destination, he sets it down on the circular glass table in front of two wooden chairs, a few cameras pointing in every direction.

Not having to be on guard yet, Xuxi giggles at the sight of each camera, waving furiously and watching as the cameraman is forcibly orchestrated to wave the camera around with his pointing. It's the little things like this; but somehow, it manages to make Xuxi not walk straight out the door like all the nerves in his body are telling him too.

Mark walks in, exactly on time, right down the second. He's wearing a loose white shirt, with a black jean jacket and black sweatpants. On anyone else, Xuxi would be confused. But it looks nothing but right on Mark.

With the cameras rolling, he smiles and enthusiastically brings Mark into a hug. He doesn't notice the way his head ducks down, against his own chest. He doesn't notice the way he stiffens slightly, reflex fast. He doesn't notice how Mark sniffles as he sits down, or how he eyes the coffee curiously. No, Xuxi doesn't even try to look in his direction. He can't afford the distraction.

He clears his throat. "So...I've been looking through your music, and trying to find a song or two that might suit the both of us. I was thinking perhaps Go? Or perhaps do you want to find something more classic? We could do something like Snow? I'm more for Snow, I'd think it'd be nice to show a new developed classical song for the audience; that way everyone would like it; from old to new! But of course, it's your own choice. Obviously we only have a week so you probably should pick quickly, but of course, it's up to you, haha." Xuxi blanks. Did he really just awkwardly laugh? God, he hopes the editors manage to cut it so that he doesn't look so idiotic.

He turns to Mark, who's looking over the two sheets of music quietly. He nods once, and then sits back in his chair. Xuxi begins to wonder if he won't even speak a single word to him. Which...would put a slight twist in his plans.

"Oh, right. I have to...answer," says Mark, blushing as he looks up and down the floor. "Uh, yeah, I think we should go with Snow; I haven't really had the chance to experiment with a more classical style of music."

Xuxi nods thoughtfully, ignoring his racing heart. "Perfect. I can get us in the studio on Wednesday and Thursday. Why don't we work on the track today and tomorrow, and if time allows it, also the staging. Friday is rehearsal and performance. Is there anything else you wanna do?"

Mark seems to not realize it's an question until someone coughs behind the cameras. He shakes his head. "Right, yeah, that sounds perfect. Can we work through the chorus first? Because I have some thoughts of the way I'd like things to fit, and I'd also like to keep a few classical instruments mixed in? So what I was thinking was-"

Xuxi can't help but look at Mark and see the high school version of him, enthusiastic and clean cut, ready to change the word one note at a time. He's glad that Mark still exists; not just the glaring, swearing Mark.

But it gives him whiplash.

It doesn't make sense; how different Mark's acted towards Xuxi in less than a month. He can still see the angry supermarket Mark in his calm face, eyebrows furrowed, acting as if Xuxi had no right to even speak to him. So why was he so calm now, face relaxed, listening to the original track, feeling the beats wash over him? How could those two Marks exist in the same period of time?

He keeps those thoughts to himself; as much as he wants to ask Mark what changed, he can’t exactly go up to him now; especially not with those cameras staring glaringly at them.

Instead, he listens as Mark creates something new from an old, overdone song, including his own input only when necessary. He listens and tries to breath, tries to pretend as if nothing has changed between the two of them.

Mark's polite act lasts through the week. Xuxi finds himself waiting for a slip up, needing to bribe the camera crew to keep quiet about their history. But Mark, calm and collected, acts as if everything is alright, as if this is his first time working with Xuxi. Their long hours of toil against a wooden floor gone.

They even finish early, leaving Thursday off, enough time for Xuxi to take a needed break from Mark, catching a coffee with Hendery. They end up at a small shop, looking at souvenirs that they don't need, talking about anything but business. It's nice; freeing, Xuxi realizes. For once, he doesn't feel like putting his hood on, sunglasses only a needed necessity.

He's scanning the aisles with mad fascination, when he spots a tiny turtle, it's head bobbing to the beat of the music. And before he knows it, he's fallen into a memory, seven feet deep.

He's back in high school (isn't he always here?) and leaning against a wall, resting, as Mark refuses to leave the studio until he perfect a move. Xuxi's exhausted, and he mumbles a few words about how there'll always be tomorrow. Mark rolls his eyes, far more annoyed because he's tired, before Xuxi grabs his hand and takes his outside, locking the door so Mark can't sneak back in. He points a constellation, talks about turtles and hares, and for once, Mark laughs and lets go. They go for a long night drive that night, following a lake road along, listening to dumb music that makes them laugh.

Xuxi's buying the turtle, and exiting the store before he knows it. Hendery looks to him with an odd glance, but doesn't say anything, nonetheless.

When he gets home, he dumps the plastic bag into a bin where he stores his bags, and places the turtle on top of the furnace, where he can see it, bobbing away to the song playing.

And just like that, it's Friday already. Xuxi gets mic-ed up to the performance. He almost hopes they'll win; maybe Mark would shoot him the smallest smile.

The music they've programmed tonight is easy listening; and Xuxi finds himself swaying on the spot. The stage is covered with white mist, and a few bare trees cover the center, with a red bench that stands out in white "snow". Mark's positioned on the bench, and begins the first verse, as Xuxi watches from backstage with pride.

There's a camera filming his reaction, and he laughs. "See that?" He points at Mark's face. "Pride and joy of Seoul; just you wait." Xuxi is happy with the atmosphere, the people singing along, old and young.

An interlude begins to play, and now at the back of the stage, Xuxi pictures how well Mark dances, fluidly to the beat of the music. A clang, and Xuxi's suddenly stretched into the light. He waves a bit to one side, a bit to the next. Then, with an emphasis on his movements— forward, back and left—he reaches Mark. At this point, directly center, they look to their respective side of the auditorium, hands reach up.

In unison, as they sing _will you remember the clean shaven fresh snow, falling from palace lights?_ white lights flash and darken the stage. Xuxi hurriedly rips off the suit he's wearing, and throws off stage, just as the lights come back on. The audience gasps; and Xuxi doesn't know what's more surprising to see; the fact that they've changed clothes, or the stage that's suddenly green.

Xuxi can't help but smile as they change keys into the bridge. He's so proud of everything, from the music to the accessories, and it all just feels perfectly, right. Somehow.

They end to rancorous applause. Once more, they move towards the end of the stage, where the announcer is waiting eagerly.

"Amazing performance, gentleman? Let's hear some more applause!” He moves his hands as the audience cheers their approval. "And that changing clothes section? Lucas, that must have been your idea, right?"

Xuxi takes a long breath, after dancing quite hard. "Actually, a lot of this has been Mark's idea; I've just helped. He designed our outfits too!" Mark looks sharply towards him, but Xuxi keeps his eyes forward.

"Wow, then you must have a lot of compliments to give our rising star, right Lucas?" He leans forward, if possible while standing.

Lucas sputters, and the announcer, clearly expecting it, laughs. "We heard some of the words you said backstage, let's replay it!" And to Lucas's horror, him describing Mark as "Seoul's pride and joy," begins to roll. He doesn't dare to look towards Mark.

He takes a tiny look; Mark looks frozen in time, a hazy look over his face. Xuxi doesn’t know what it means.

After all four performances, and a faint promise of checking online to see which duet is ranking, Xuxi scrambles out the back door. Mark had walked straight out after they were done.

“Wait!” Xuxi calls out, bouncing down the hallway. “Mark!” He follows him to his room backstage, and is stopped at the front door.

There’s a familiar face at the door. Xuxi stops dead in his tracks.

“Donghyuck?” Xuxi asks. A look of disbelief passes over his mouth. Mark and Donghyuck had broken up in high school; over some sort of silly argument that had turned into a weekend of miserable slumps from Mark and a bitter sort of memory for Xuxi, who was forced to act as some sort of messenger between the two of them, running unspoken words along a racing night.

“Yeah, Wong, right? What’s up?” He crosses his arms, and for a second, Xuxi’s tempted to just leave. But he shakes his head.

“I’m here to see Mark. Can I go in?” Donghyuck rolls his eyes, and examines a piece of paper in his hands.

“Sorry, not on the list.” Xuxi’s eyes bulge out.

“Not on the list? There’s a list?” He hopes it’s a joke.

“Nah,” Xuxi sighs in relief. “But I’m still not going to let you in. Get lost, before I start to make a mess of things.”

Xuxi shakes his head. “Not moving, sorry. I need to talk to Mark.”

Donghyuck clears his throat, and begins to let out an absurd scream, before Xuxi gets the message, raising his hands in regret and walking away. The walk back to his own room feels cold, and he sees lights start shutting off, realizing how long he’s spent pleading with Donghyuck to open the door.

It isn’t until he gets home, hopeful to explain himself to Mark tomorrow, that he sees the text. A bright glow against his handbag, Xuxi is sure to scroll through his recent messages, stopping at unfamiliar number.

He presses play, and a familiar voice begins to sound.

“Listen,” Mark says, as the wind blows harshly in the background, “I have some things to work out; so I probably can’t come to the studio; it’d be best for us to work on our own parts for the assigned song; Ride right? I’ll see you in the studio Wednesday.”

Mark’s words register in Xuxi’s mind, but before he can say a goodbye, Mark has hung up. The faded words from his mouth disappear into thin air. Marh had sounded concerned on the phone, but Xuxi decides against calling him back. There must be something important for him to have to skip their filming.

In the meantime, he contacts the director, informing them of their choices. He doesn’t seem surprised, and relays to Xuxi that Mark has already contacted them. As he arranges for some independent filming, he twists with the idea that Mark’s working on something on the side. He wishes he knew what it was.

As he sits back in his chair; he thinks about Mark filming something, and the possibility of Xuxi sneaking on set to get him a snack—anything to have the chance to maintain the semblance of coworkers between them. He really just wants to be Mark’s friend again, but he slides that possibility back down. It’s too early for anything like that.

So he waits patiently, taking a trip down to the sea to gain some inspiration for their new performance. In the back of his mind, he’s waiting for Wednesday to come, to see Mark again, but he pretends it's nothing of that sort. The lake is icy. nearly untouchable. Xuxi wraps himself in a blanket, and waddles around with a self camera. He films the lake for his fans, and takes a selfie, which he sends to management

Two seconds later, a ding erupts from his phone, and he sees the same selfies in a tweet, along with the caption "working on something!" which he's sure will send his fans into a frenzy. He smiles. It feels nice being back in business

He knows it's manufactured, has known since he was young and heard discouraging words from his father's voice. But it's controlled...perfectly, just for him, like it's been wrapped on and tied with a bow. He skips a few rocks against the lake, watching them fade into the distance. A couple of red plastic bags float onshore and he collects them, tucking them back into a pocket.

He walks further; and finds a rotting bridge, its wood turning green from the algae in the water. He runs his hands against the brittleness, and imagines a story of a family who had built it, a hundred years ago. Hands together, with nails and sweat, creating a walkway. In his mind’s eye, he sees the children growing old and the grandchildren forgetting about the bridge; it’s significance long gone, nothing but a landmark for those passing. But it’s still here. Regardless of who it’s lost, who has forgotten it, it’s stayed, a loyal friend for those wishing for a path. Xuxi takes another step, and makes it to the end of the bridge before he decides to turn back, the cold air finally getting under his skin.

Wednesday comes far too slow. He arrives early, as always, and waits for Mark. The same two coffee cups are still in the studio, and Xuxi tosses them without a thought as he turns on the lights. An hour passes, and Xuxi fills the time playing chords and tossing up ideas into the air by himself. The cameras have already been set up, and now all Xuxi is alone, in a small studio, with nothing but lights and the music to keep him company.

Mark arrives, albeit two hours late, looking discouraged. Worried, Xuxi decides to not mention his tardiness, moving on.

"How's your week been?" Xuxi tries for a conversation as they go for a lunch break, poking apart takeaway in plastic containers as the hollow heat brushes by.

Mark swallows a bite. "Not bad, I guess." Xuxi watches as he looks down, and doesn't look back up.

Xuxi stiles, and tries for a different question. "Are you pumped for the performance this Friday?"

"Yeah." That's it. One word responses. Xuxi grits his teeth in confusion. What did he do?

By the time they finish their session, a late five thirty time that has Xuxi late to Kun's house, he's wondering just what had happened. Because Mark was...Mark was acting exactly as Xuxi assumed he would act, not like the comforting, although awkward, approach of last week.

As he calls a taxi home, he begins to go back through the details of the last week, the stifling air between them, the performance in its glory. He sorts through the bad and the good, and wonders when the coin had flipped it had ended up on the bad.

After the bad rehearsal, Xuxi trudges home to a dark hallway and a lingering loneliness. He turns on his smartphone, and lying in bed, scrolls back all the way to the very beginning of his camera roll, with videos and pictures that weren’t even taken with a smartphone. He squints at the pixels, and watches as Mark and him grow up through high school, with awkward pictures and random dance videos to commemorate it. He tosses his phone to the side after the sad pity party he’s holding in his head ends as he turns over.

But, he can’t seem to fall asleep. Single bitter memories fall through his mind on replay, and Xuxi twists and turns, uncomfortable in his own bed. He’s thinking about every single thing that went wrong. 

Finally, he gives up on sleep and reaches for the glowing bright phone by his side. A click, and a buzz, and the phone crackles to a start.

“Xuxi?” Kun groggily says. “Is everything okay?” Xuxi says nothing. “I saw the teasers for that new show you’re in...so, Mark, huh?”

“I just don’t want things to stay where they are. I miss him. A whole lot.” Kun stays silent. Xuxi takes a deep breath. “It’s just weird to be next to him and yet not talking to him. He hasn’t even looked me in the eyes. Once.” 

Kun sighs; something on his side shifts over the phone. “Have you tried talking to him?”

Xuxi rolls his eyes. “He’s never tried talking to me. Why should I bother?”

“Because it’s bothering you. Because you need some kind of closure from Mark. Because you’ll be miserable if you don’t take the chance before you.” Kun lists off his answers easily, and Xuxi begins to wonder for how long he’s been thinking about it. It’s tiring to even listen to, at the least. He rests his head against a pillow, but there’s nothing about it that feels like he’s relaxing. This conversation is disorientation, to say the least. They haven’t properly talked about Mark for a while now; it almost seems as if Kun had dropped the subject as soon as he could. 

He pauses with that thought in mind over the phone. “Hey, Kun?” A hum resonates in response.

“Why did you stop talking about Mark so instantly? I mean…” Xuxi doesn’t even know what he’s trying to say. “I told you we had drifted apart, and you had made sure to never talk about him again?”

Kun sighs, louder this time, like a crash of waves against a stony beach. “Mark had told me to.”

He forgets about the situation the next morning, whistling as he makes his way up the stairs to the studio, greeting the receptionist with a smile. The studio feels stale today, and Xuxi suppresses the urge in him to dust down the piano while waiting for Mark. He lays down on the piano bench, legs and head hanging over the edge and tries to take a nap.

A loud "ahem," floats through the room, and Xuxi's startled to a point that he rolls off the piano bench. It's a clang, but doesn't hurt compared to the embarrassment he feels.

He stands up, still feeling so completely awkward, and looks down to the ground.

"So, you're ready to get started?" He peeks a glance at Mark. He's wearing a purple-black parka and a dark blue jacket underneath it. Even though he isn't staring at anything in particular, his expression looks angry, and Xuxi draws back. Single word answers follow him the whole day.

For once, Mark doesn't have anything to contribute; or at least, acts as if he doesn't. Xuxi pretends to not notice the eager looks he gives the storyboard when Xuxi's back is turned. He doesn't act as if he notices when the parts are all spilled over with red ink when he comes back from the bathroom.

Overall, it's a silent day for Xuxi, and he trudges home without a single good thought in his mind about Mark. When he gets home, it's straight to bed for him, forgoing his habit to pick through his cabinet or turn on the TV for some sort of entertainment.

When he wakes up the next day, it feels like nails and tacks against his throat. Xuxi coughs, and it comes out with an echo against his empty house. He trails around the house, packing more tea, and prays that this upcoming sickness will wake up until he's done with promotions to have him deal with.

The doors in the stage are creaky, and Xuxi braces his weight against the cool metal for a moment, feeling the heat from his face disappear, if only for a moment. He feels so badly that he doesn't even move when the director calls for their duo up to the stage, instead moving once Hendery taps him a few times (the last of them being quite harsh).

Stumbling across the stage, he looks into the audience, where his fluffy jacket is staring back at him, looking more reproachful than anything Xuxi's ever looked at. He blinks, and wobbles. Everything that could possibly goes wrong seems to, and by the time they're done, the director calls for five, and silently tells Xuxi to get his act together with the stare of his.

Instead of going out for some cold air, Xuxi collapses into the seat, and rests his head on his hands. Perhaps, if possible, he'll be able to just get some more time to sleep, to rest off the heat and have some more energy.

"What's wrong with him?" Mark seems to appear out of anywhere, and Xuxi shakes his head. He doesn't have enough energy to talk.

Hendery shrugs. "He wouldn't let me take him home. He says he's fine."

Mark snorts. "Doesn't look fine to me."

Xuxi hears the director call them back, and wobbles off the chair.

"I'm fine. Completely." Xuxi slowly says. It’s cold and sweltering, and all confusing around in his head. He makes his way slowly around a pile of sheet music lying on the ground and gives something of an attempt to confidently strut on stage. His microphone dangles in his hands, the lights feeling far too hot against his already red face. He gives a small attempt to bring his energy up, jumping in place as the intro plays.

There's a moment of silence, before Xuxi realizes he should be singing. He jumps around onto line, and squints into the distance. If the performance goes like this...well, Xuxi has no idea what he'll do. It's one thing to embarrass himself in front of a bunch of producers that might spread their thoughts around to their friends in the industry, but another to publicly show his inability to work a stage.

He's still thinking these thoughts as the night looms. Peeking out the door to his room, he notices people buzzing around. It does nothing to soothe his nerves. Neither does Mark, who's standing across the hallway. He seems to inch closer to Xuxi every time he looks away, but Xuxi can't exactly tell, his mind too distracted. He tries to relax. He fans himself, hoping to wash away the sticky feeling across his chest.

"Lucas, Mark!" Someone behind them calls. "You're needed in the front." Mark pushes his way off the wall, and makes his way towards the front, only looking back at Xuxi once before he disappears into the crowds.

Xuxi walks with what he hopes is control, stiff and locked in place as the hot and cold over his body mix into uncomfortableness. He feels like he’s sinking with every step, the stage nothing but sand. The microphone in his hand is a cold reminder of what he's about to do against the haziness drowning out caution. 

He straightens up, and pastes a toothy pleased smile. This is work; this is nothing that he can't do. He tries to take a few deep breaths. It fails to do anything. Instead, Xuxi is forced to stare at the glaring bright light in front of him as he walks onto the Y shaped catwalk, meeting up with Mark, who grabs his hand once he gets to the middle, much to the happiness of the fans, who roar excitedly. Once settled in their seats at the end of the stage, waiting for the next group to come out, Xuxi twists to face Mark, seated on the same couch.

"What was that for?" Xuxi asks, turning back and clapping for Yuqi and her partner, Yanan.

"Nothing. You didn't look too steady. I was just making sure you didn't end up fainting on stage or something."

Xuxi scoffs, although something flutters in his mind. "I didn't need your help." He knows where the boundaries between him and Mark lie now; there's no reason for Mark to be overstepping them as if he hadn't spent the last week handing out single word answers and cold glances. He rolls his eyes once more.

For the rest of the night, Mark doesn't make any sort of move to talk to him. No matter how the announcer prompts him, Mark doesn't even turn to Xuxi, keeping with his own thoughts. And so does Xuxi, keeping his back faced to Mark when he can. Even during their performance, with fire and smoke, does Xuxi manage to keep his eyes on the audience, ignoring the other.

He rushes home just as they're dismissed, he allows himself to relax. The aches and the pains come back with no anger to be distracted on it. It feels worse now, and Xuxi wonders how he'll be able to survive the next two weeks, surrounded by Mark. He doesn't even feel like he can stand being in the same room as him anymore.

With his stomach hurting and his head aching, he decides to make some soup, and crawls right into bed after.

The next two days pass by like months. Xuxi wakes up on Saturday completely distraught by heat washed dreams and a blanket that still makes him feel cold. He grumbles, and stumbles into the kitchen, only to feel worse about even eating fruit. With his back aching and shivers falling over his body, he goes back to bed, sleeping the day away.

When he wakes up, there's a banging at the door; Kun's here with soup that Xuxi tries to scarf down in order to prevent hurting his feelings. Kun feels his forehead, and shakes his head. He forces him back into bed, and draws the blankets up and the shades down. With a pat on the head, and a promise of bringing back nutritional foods the next morning to get his strength back up, he leaves.

Xuxi rolls around in bed, and somehow drifts off. He sleeps conscious of the world around him, hearing the door unlock in the morning as Kun tries to (quietly) put away the foods he has brought and leave.

He cancels his meetings for Monday, slurring his words together in his phone call. Hendery seems to get why without an explanation, and promises to come and check up on him Monday, to which Xuxi agrees. He assumes he'll tell Mark and the rest, and turns around to sleep some more while the sun rises.

He feels well rested, for the first time in a while when he wakes up. As he brushes aside the curtains, there are more cars outside than usual, but Xuxi thinks it's nothing out of the ordinary. He works his way to the kitchen, reheating some soup that Kun had left him from Saturday. The hot and cold no longer plague his body, and he stretches while heating up the soup. There's something serene about this morning, and Xuxi refuses to take it for granted. He turns on the television and rests his head on the couch as he finishes his soup, and laughs for hours, swiping through funny shows.

At twelve, as he swipes through a food delivery app, trying to find something to eat, his silence is loudly interrupted by a loud knocking on the door.

"Hendery!" Xuxi shouts excitedly. His expression quickly fades as Mark walks in as well, causing Xuxi to draw back.

"What are you doing here?" Xuxi asks. Mark's in what could almost be pajamas, sunglasses and a straw hat. He shakes his head.

"Fixing things." He calmly says.

Hendery holds out a small phone. "Read this." He calls out as he steps further into the house, leaving Xuxi to awkwardly gesture for Mark to enter as well. As he walks past him, Xuxi quickly reads over the article.

His eyes widen with the first sentence, accusing Mark and Xuxi of being enemies. The more he reads, the worse it gets. Insiders report of seeing them argue about the silliest things constantly, and one even says that they've cursed each other. Xuxi moves down the page, and the author has included screenshots from Xuxi and Mark looking angry while talking to each other during the show, and paparazzi photos taken in a tree of them frowning.

In the end, there's a small voice recording. Xuxi prays it doesn't get any worse. But he's proven wrong. Mark trashes his name in what seems like a drunken rant. By the end, he's hiccuping, and Xuxi's wondering how either of them will be able to come out with this without hurting the other. Because—obviously the general public needs someone to blame. 

Xuxi ducks under the column next to the sofa to grab a blanket off it. He wraps it around himself, and walks towards the kitchen. He’s not surprised to find Hendery in the dining room, laying out papers as Mark pulls out a chair. 

“What are we going to do?” Xuxi asks, and Hendery looks off to the side and shrugs. 

“I simply, do not know. Damage control, probably. Mark’s management is all screwed up right now so he doesn’t have a representative today. That’s why I thought it would be best to do this here. It’d be more comfortable, right?” Xuxi scratches his head, but eventually he nods. He supposes here would be better in the lofty meeting room, gray walls blocking any form of emotion. 

Xuxi sits down next to Hendery, Mark across from him. From this angle, Xuxi notices the abundance of darkness in his eye bags, and wonders why he had never noticed it before.

“Alright.” Hendery pushes away his dinner. “There’s exactly three things that we could do; two of which are probably the only feasible options.” Xuxi keeps his gaze on Mark, who hasn’t once looked away from Hendery. 

“Number one,” Hendery distributes papers to both Xuxi and Mark. “We could not talk about it; ignore it, but post a picture of you two on your respective social media platforms. It’d probably drive noise away from the two of you.” Xuxi nods. That sounds like a reliable deal. He sneaks another glance towards Mark, who is still straight-faced.

"Number two, we could release statements talking about a disagreement but making sure to emphasize everything is alright now." Xuxi doesn't like this idea.

"What's the other?" asks Xuxi.

"Well.." Hendery hesitates. "We could ignore it, but let the media run with the idea that you two are sworn enemies. It'd draw attention to the two of you, and you would have to find some time to secretly diss each other."

"No, I don't like that." Mark mutters. It's the first words he has uttered since he entered Xuxi's apartment. "I don't want the public to hear my name and automatically attach someone else."

Xuxi's heart sinks. So he really hates him, doesn't he? Mark's glance towards his papers seems to affirm it, eyebrows crinkling down. 

Granted, Xuxi doesn't quite enjoy the thought of such a public fight, but then again, it has nothing to do with Mark but the publicity against it. He slumps a bit in his seat.

Hendery smooths out the wrinkles in his top. "I think that the first would be best; it seems to have had the best success rate in the past. Not to mention with you two on the same show, we can get word to the producers that we want more shots of the two of you working in unison. I'm sure we could slip a few dollars in if necessary."

Mark nods. "If there's nothing else, would it be cool if I left?" 

Hendery nods. "Sure. Just remember that you need to be at the shoot on Wednesday." Mark hesitates for a moment, turning around to look back at Xuxi, before he leaves, footsteps clanking in his departure. 

"What's Wednesday?" Xuxi asks. 

"You two are meeting for lunch. I thought it would be a nice thing to film for the show; they could use it as a clip for your brainstorming process." Xuxi hums. It does _sound_ good. 

Hendery gets up, grabs the papers and shoves them back into his bag. Xuxi sees him out, a hand against the white door as Hendery adjusts his shoes. 

"I'll be back here early Wednesday with your stylist. Please be awake." Hendery instructs.

He's down the hallway when Hendery says, "it'll be all alright." His voice is just loud enough to reach Xuxi's ears through the hum of the red light outside. He stands outside for a while. Taking a look down, he has suddenly realized that he had had that whole conversation, while wearing pajamas with little moons on them. He shudders. Embarrassing.

Wednesday starts off well, and Xuxi wants to count it towards something. Although, if he really thinks about it, the last time a day had started off well... He swallows. It probably wouldn’t be for the best if he went down that rabbit hole again.

Hendery comes in the morning with a stylist that Xuxi flashes a smile at before he closes his eyes again, hoping to get some sleep before their event. She’s done before he can even take a short nap. Before he knows it, he’s poked by Hendery into a van, leading him towards a small restaurant on the outskirts of the city. 

The owner, who Xuxi personally knows, leads him into a back table without a request, a single camera set up already. No camera crew is in sight, and Xuxi nods. He’s glad there isn’t anyone else to witness this; it feels more personal this way.

Before he knows it, Mark’s slipped into the seat across from him. 

“Where’re the menus?” He asks, scanning the table.

Xuxi looks abashed. “I ordered already for us...I’ve been here quite a few times, so I thought it’d be fine. I got you a strawberry sprite too; I remember that you liked it, right?” _It used to be your favorite in high school_ nearly slips out of Xuxi’s lips. He shoves it back into his memories.

A strange look comes over Mark’s face. “Yeah. It’s my favorite drink; thanks.” Xuxi nods, taking another sip of his own drink. 

Their first dish arrives as Mark passes a few lyrics he’s written to Xuxi. The same, mysterious look passes over Mark’s face when he sees the first dish. 

“You remembered.” Mark says, staring into a bubbling bowl of zucchini and eggplant softened with a sweet, distinct flavor. 

“Of course.” Xuxi slides the dish over. “Eat up.” 

Xuxi keeps one eye on Mark’s lyrics as they eat and more dishes come out. He comments on them, and begins the process of adding his own to create a well written song.

Once they’re almost done with lunch, nothing left but four egg tarts sitting neatly in a white platter, Xuxi clears his throat. “Are you doing alright?” 

He’s only trying to politely make conversation, but when Mark sets down his utensils he knows he’s in for a full conversation. 

“I’m okay.” He wipes his mouth. “Do you think they,” He points at the camera, “have enough footage of us?”

Xuxi checks his watch. It’s already two in the afternoon. “Two hours of eating?” He says. “I’m sure they do.”

Mark smiles, and it seems like the first time Xuxi has ever seen him smile so wholeheartedly. “Perfect.” He moves towards the camera and switches it off. 

“What are you doing?” Xuxi replies. He’s never touched a crew’s equipment, figuring it would be worse to have to pay for a broken camera.

“I want to talk to you.” Mark says plainly. Xuxi’s in shock.

“About what?”

“About high school.” Xuxi feels like his heart stops beating. “About everything. About us. For some closure, I guess.” Xuxi doesn't know what to say. He waits.

"When we went our separate ways," Mark takes a deep breath. "did you ever feel sad about it?"

Xuxi cocks his head. He doesn't quite understand the question. "Of course I did. How could I not? You were my best friend." He cries in outrage. 

Mark seems surprised at his answer. "But then, why didn't you do more to stop us from falling apart?"

"I don't understand." Xuxi gaps. 

"I waited for you. And you never showed up on our Friday afternoon. And I waited again the next Friday, but you never showed up. And everytime I asked you, you put us off. You put our friendship onto the back burner. All of a sudden, it was like I didn't know you anymore. You just became so distant and I didn't understand any of it. Was I not enough? Were the friends you made at your company better than Mark from your local high school? And why didn't you tell me you auditioned for Sun Entertainment? I would've helped you." Mark takes a deep breath. Xuxi doesn't know where to look.

Everything looks, feels, too bright. Xuxi's on edge, his heart bouncing. His skin is flustered.

"It wasn't anything like that." Xuxi shakes his head. "I. Well, I." He doesn't want to say it. "I forgot about everything. It was just so overwhelming, having to train in high school. And I didn't want to complain to you, because you wanted to train but your parents wouldn't let you until you graduated. And I, I just didn't think it would be nice of me to talk to you about it. And I, well, I don't know. It was so overwhelming, and all I could think about was practicing; by the time I had halted and tried to gain my life back, you were gone from me already." 

Mark huffs at his response. Xuxi doubts either of them will be getting anything close to closure with this kind of a conversation. Mark's busy grabbing a to-go bag and tucking it under his arm. 

"I'll see you on Friday. I think I just need time to think." He responds with a weak hand in the air.

The restaurant owner comes just as Mark leaves, and she brings with her a complementary apple candy that Xuxi sucks on through his teeth as he struggles to come to terms with the matter before him. He pays the bills swiftly and leaves determined to practice for the show.

Out of everything he's worried about, it feels like the only thing he can control.

Friday comes wearily. Xuxi wakes up tired, and he trudges to the station, exhausted. He doesn't know what may be ahead of him, but whatever it is, he hopes it includes rest and not seeing a certain someone.

Speaking of him, Mark suddenly appears before his eyes. Xuxi jumps.

"You ready?" Mark gestures towards the stage.

"Yeah, sure, of course." Xuxi tries to smile; it probably looks like a grimace. Rehearsal goes well enough considering the tension between the two of them. 

They're picked to go first again for the performance, and Xuxi feels deja vu from the blind performance. He's standing on one side of the Y as Mark stands on the other. A short monologue, clips from famous movies plays as Xuxi struggles to keep his composure in check. He's never felt so unprofessional. 

A few twinkles, and Xuxi's set out onto the stage. He sings and dances contently.

Before he knows it, he's back on the pedestal with Mark, glancing at the other duo stood on the other. As the votes come piling in, their pedestals rise, and Xuxi closes his eyes. He doesn't know if winning would mean anything to him. In all honesty, he feels like he's rather lost a lot more than what he has gained.

When he opens his eyes, gold confetti covers his face. Mark's smiling next to him, and a yellow 'win' is painted behind them. Without thinking, he wraps Mark up in a hug. But by the time he has realized his mistake, Mark has already softened into the hug, his hands reaching around Xuxi. 

"I'm sorry." Xuxi says in his ear. "Can we try again?" 

Mark pulls back, but now Xuxi feels like he's under a microscope with the look he's being given. He squirms.

Finally, Mark smiles. He holds out his hand. "Don't leave me out dry like that again."

Xuxi's worries go rushing away. He grabs Mark's hand. "I won't. You've always meant too much for to do such a thing again."

He grips Mark back into a long hug. “I missed you so much.” He says, and Mark’s hold tightens with his words. 

It takes three months, seven days, and twenty minutes for Xuxi to fall back in love with Mark. Three months of being taken back to memory lane, watching old fashioned movies in his living room, and finding ways to make Mark happy. Seven days of feeling his heart spiral every time he looks at Mark. Twenty minutes for him to work up the nerve to say something about it. 

Mark is calm when Xuxi talks to him, and at three months, seven days, and thirty minutes, he smiles, and says, “what makes you think I ever fell out of love with you?”

**Author's Note:**

> the music show thing w/ new + old artists mentioned in this story is loosely based off the show 我们的歌(our song) which was so so so beautiful to watch !!! [click here](https://youtu.be/zQwDqTNKWt0) to watch the first episode (its in mandarin and subtitles now YAYYYYY) !! also [click here](https://youtu.be/gKtY90g3pHo) to listen to my favorite song from the show out of all of the stunning performances i am seriously seriously in love with this show and its blending of older artists with upcoming artists !!! (also zhou shen,,, absolutely no words his voice best boy !!
> 
> thank you for reading to the end; it means a lot to me! please stay healthy and safe! remember that it's important to take care of yourself; drink water and be careful. i love you <3
> 
> [twitter!!](https://twitter.com/dreamjuns) | [curious cat](https://curiouscat.me/drmroses)


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